


Wash

by what_a_dork_fish



Series: Cheriks [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M, so generic, so so so generic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: My first contribution to the X-Men fandom and it's gaaaaaay.Anyway here's some fluff.





	

Charles is doing the washing-up when he feels Erik’s mind coming closer. He’s all wrapped up in something tight and nervous, which is very unlike him… but Charles resists the urge to peek. It’s rude, first of all, and second… he likes being surprised by Erik. Anyone else and he’d try to feel out the edges of their emotions, see if they’re angry about something, wonder if—

“Hello, Erik,” he says without turning around.

“How did you—oh. Right.” Erik decides to give up padding like a cat and walks with firm footsteps over to Charles. Charles smirks smugly, but hides it as Erik comes to stand next to him.

“Whose turn is it to help you?” Erik asks.

“Alex, but he and Hank are fine-tuning Hank’s invention. I gave him permission.” Charles rinses a plate and sets it in the drying rack. Erik opens a drawer and digs in it to find a clean dishrag, and starts to dry the dishes. Charles does not say how pleased he is to have help.

When the dishes piling up are dried, Erik takes over rinsing, bumping Charles out of the way gently with his hip. It’s the first time they’ve touched since Charles saved him from drowning, and it’s… disappointing. Domestic, but disappointing. There’s no zing, no flash of anything, no flush of warmth. But Charles is good at hiding his emotions, has always been good at it. So he says and does nothing.

The last spoon is clean. Charles rinses the sink and dries his hands. He turns to thank Erik for his help, but the other is already putting things away. So Charles gives a mental shrug and goes to help.

When they’re done, Charles smiles at Erik. “Thank you for your help,” he says. “Chess?”

Erik stares at him with the strangest look on his face. Charles’ smile fades a little, and he brushes tentatively against Erik’s mind…

_a flash of desire a tinge of fear an image of a kiss_

As Charles’ eyes widen and before he can do or say anything, Erik makes a move.

 _There’s_ the zing on contact. Erik is an excellent kisser, and Charles finds himself relaxing, eyes sliding shut, leaning into the kiss, hands clenched on the front of Erik’s shirt as the other’s arms wrap around him, keep him safe…

The brush of Raven’s mind, approaching.

 _Raven_ , he whispers in Erik’s mind.

 _I don’t care_ , Erik replies, with a tinge of recklessness, and then his tongue is in Charles’ mouth and Charles gives a little muffled squeak before sliding his along Erik’s, tasting the food they had for dinner, tasting brandy (no wonder he’s so bold), tasting—

“Ahem”

Charles pulls away, reluctantly. Erik doesn’t want him to, but does not force him, though his expression is foreboding as he turns. Charles, still wrapped in Erik’s arms, smiles at Raven. “Yes?”

She’s in her true form, and her blue face is both slightly annoyed and very amused. “Am I interrupting?” she asks delicately.

“Yes,” Erik growls.

“It’s alright, though,” Charles assures her quickly, with a sharp mental prod at Erik to _Stop being mean to my sister_. “Was there something you wanted?”

“Just wanted to know where you two were,” she answers innocently. “Alex and Hank are fighting again, and Cassidy is laughing.”

Charles sighs heavily. “Of course they are,” he mutters, and pulls away from Erik, not too slowly, he hopes. Erik obviously doesn’t want to let him go, his hands lingering on Charles’ waist; but he does, eventually.

“I’ll come with you,” he offers.

“I think I can sort this on my own,” Charles answers, amused.

 _I want to kiss you again, Charles_.

“But you’re welcome to come along.”

~

They steal kisses constantly after that. Some days it’s just a gentle peck; some days it’s so deep and heavy Charles wants to strip and have sex on the nearest flat surface. Most days it’s languid and soft, and Charles feels like he could spend hours just standing in a corner or sitting on Erik’s lap, kissing him.

Once in a while Erik will get handsy, but they’re always interrupted. Once, they were in the linen closet, and Erik had just taken a packet of lube from his pocket ( _oh you dirty fucker_ ) ( _just drop your trousers, liebling_ ) when they heard footsteps. Charles hastily cast his mind out—Alex, needed to change his sheets—and made him forget what he was doing. The footsteps paused, then passed on. But that had been sufficiently terrifying that they don’t try the linen closet again.

It’s at night, when they’re playing chess and the children are asleep, that Erik suddenly looks up and says, “Come here and kiss me.”

Charles stands immediately and walks around the table to straddle Erik and kiss him deeply. Erik grabs Charles’ thighs and pulls him closer.

“The others?” Erik mumbles into Charles’ mouth.

“Asleep,” he whispers.

“Good.”

That’s the first time Charles gets to experience those wonderful fingers deep in him, and he clings to Erik tightly, breathing ragged, unable to stop sharing his pleasure with Erik, who groans freely as he works Charles wide.

“I’m going to have you over this table,” Erik whispers hoarsely, kissing Charles’ neck, “And then I’m going to take you to bed and have you all over again. I’m going make you come until you can’t stand up.”

“Please,” Charles gasps, feeling like he’s burning up, feeling that it’s not enough, that it will never be enough. He _wants_ Erik, wants him so badly, he can’t even imagine not wanting him.

So he’s had over the table, knocking chess pieces to the floor, biting his lip to hold in moans so loud he _knows_ they’ll hear, staining the expensive carpet and not caring.

Then, after cleaning up, Erik makes good on his promise to take Charles to bed and make sure he can’t stand up. They enjoy themselves thoroughly in the process.

~

Charles is washing up after dinner when Erik comes in the room, and walks over to kiss the back of his neck.

“Hello, Liebling,” he murmurs.

“Hello, my love,” Charles replies quietly, smiling at a second kiss, light and familiar.

“Whose turn is it to help?”

“Yours, actually.”

“Ah.”

They clean the dishes in silence, and when they are done Charles brushes against Erik’s mind.

_safety warmth home kiss_

Charles blinks back a tear or two. Safe. Home. Words Erik associates with _him_.

He turns, and kisses Erik.


End file.
